The Wizard Games
by Phoenix Bane
Summary: A mash of the Hunger Games and Harry Potter. Two wizards from each of 12 schools worldwide must compete in the Wizard Games.
1. Chapter 1

All of District Hogwarts was gathered in the Great Hall, waiting for the reaping to begin. Effie Fudge stood on the podium with two glass bowls full of little scraps of parchment with the names of anyone twelve to eighteen years old who live in District Hogwarts. Two people would be chosen, a boy and a girl.

Harry Potter and his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, waited anxiously for the reaping to begin. Ron stood with his siblings Fred, George, and Ginny.

As the last trickle of people came into the Great Hall, Effie Fudge raised her hand to silence the soft murmur of nervousness.

"Welcome, District Hogwarts, to the reaping of the seventy-fourth annual Wizard Games," Effie Fudge said in a voice that was falsely excited. "Let the reaping begin."

She plunged her hand into the first glass bowl labeled "Boys." She pulled out the parchment scrap and unfolded it. The whole room held its breath.

"Ron Weasley."

Everyone turned to stare at Ron. Fred and George had lost their usual humor and wore expressions of horror. Ginny made a tiny little squeaking sound and grabbed Ron's hand.

_This can't be happening,_ Harry thought. _My best friend can't go._

Ron took a shaky step forward. Ginny tried to pull him back, but he shook her off gently, trying to seem brave. Harry saw a single tear trace down Hermione's face.

_No. This won't happen. I won't let this happen, _Harry thought, and then, not giving himself time to change his mind, he said, "Wait. I volunteer as tribute."

Everyone gasped. The Weasley siblings looked torn. Brother or best friend? It was an impossible choice. So Harry would make it for them.

Ron looked back at Harry. "You don't have to–"

"You can thank me later," Harry said, and walked right past him to stand on the podium next to Effie Fudge. She looked at him like she was confused for a moment. It was very rare for someone to volunteer as tribute.

"Excellent," she finally said, and reached for the "Girls" bowl, but a stirring in the crowd made her stop.

At first just the Weasley family, then everyone else, touched three fingers of their left hand to their lips and held them out to Harry. Ginny was still crying, Fred and George looked solemn, and Ron had a pleading look that clearly said _you'd better come back alive._

The silence felt like it lasted a long time. Effie Fudge stared, her eyes wide with surprise. Finally she recovered and plunged her hand into the "Girls" bowl.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione looked stunned. She walked slowly and calmly to the podium. Effie Fudge smiled.

"We now have our two tributes. Thank you, District Hogwarts, and may the magic be _ever_ in your favor!"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other from across the podium, best friends turned worst enemies. Both might die. But only one could survive.


	2. Chapter 2

After the reaping, Harry and Hermione were taken to the District Hogwarts mayor's office. The mayor, Dumbledore, shook hands with each of them and directed them to separate rooms. Harry stepped inside to see velvet furniture and plush cushions, a thick carpet, and ornate old-fashioned paintings of old Wizard Games winners hanging on the walls. It was the most expensive room Harry had ever seen.

Not five minutes after Harry entered the room, the door opened again and the whole Weasley family poured inside: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Percy, Bill, and Charlie.

Molly was sobbing and fussing over Harry the moment she entered the room. She seemed unsure of whether she should be thanking him or not, given that she would be thanking him for most likely dying.

"Harry…," Ron said in a hoarse voice, but he couldn't get the words out and broke down crying, something that Harry had never seen him do.

"You have to win, Harry," Ginny said, touching his hand. "You have to win for us."

Harry didn't know what to say. Other people in wealthy districts had trained for this competition, and Harry knew only what he had learned in school. Hermione would have a much higher chance than him, being so much smarter.

Ginny wasn't sobbing like Molly or, surprisingly, Ron, but tears traced down her cheeks. Harry knew she had a crush on him, but he hadn't really thought about what this would do to her.

"Promise you'll try to win," Ginny said, and Harry could see in her eyes that she really, really meant it.

"I promise."

There was a single moment of silence when they just looked at each other, and the Weasley family watched them. Then Harry held out his arms, and Ginny fell into them, really crying now, her whole body racking with sobs, the tears soaking into Harry's shirt.

Molly sank to her knees beside them and wrapped her arms around both. Fred and George each put a hand on their mother's shoulder in a comforting gesture. Bill, Charlie, and Percy stood to the side, watching sorrowfully.

Harry finally let go of Ginny and stroked her hair back. She sniffled but had regained control of herself. She stepped back into Molly's arms. The Weasley's said their long, wet goodbyes and left.

Not long after, Hermione's parents came in. Harry didn't know them very well, but they greeted him grimly and expressed their admiration that he had volunteered. Harry wanted to somehow promise them that he wouldn't be the one to kill Hermione, or tell them that he thought she would win, but he could think how to say something so glum in an optimistic way.

The Grangers left after a few minutes of awkward good lucks and goodbyes, and a group of Peacekeepers came to take Harry and Hermione to Kings Cross Station. The place was alive with reporters with cameras trying to get a good look at the tributes.

Effie Fudge escorted Harry and Hermione onto the train, which was just as expensive-looking as the rooms in the mayor's office. Someone was waiting for them there: a man with one real eye, the other a round, electric blue thing set in an eye patch-type frame. His face was scarred and his breath was stale with alcohol.

"Mayhitch!" Effie shouted. "Where were you at the reaping? Drunk again?"

"Drunk. Yup," Mayhitch slurred. He eyed Harry and Hermione with contempt. "These the tributes?"

"Yes," Effie said sternly.

"Forget it." Mayhitch walked away down the halls of the train.

"W-who was that?" Hermione stammered, looking nervously down the hall.

"Mad-Eye Mayhitch, of course!" Effie replied. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of the only living winner in your district?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a surprised glance. "_That_ was Mad-Eye Mayhitch?"

Effie just pressed her hot pink lips together firmly and led them down to their rooms in the train.


End file.
